Pow
by abstractwhisk
Summary: A fire, a murder, a theft, an abduction. Gibbs doesn't believe in coincidences, so what the heck are they really after? TAbby, and maybe a hint of subtle McGiva, but it won't be the main focus of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Betaed (as usual) by Smackalicious. Sorry it's taken me so long to get something out there…I've been suffering a minor obsession with another show. **

**Truthfully I have no idea where this is going, where it will end, or what the pairings will be, but if enough people like it I'll figure something out eventually! Enjoy!**

Abby's pigtails had long lost their perkiness that day, but that was the   
least of her problems. The team had been working a tough case, and as Tony  
stepped into the lab, she was just finishing up what she later learned was  
her eighteenth Caf-Pow!

"Please tell me you guys are done and I can go home," she said   
exasperatedly.

"I thought you liked work, Abbs," he teased, and she sent him a death glare.  
Lack of sleep had taken its toll on her mood.

"I have been up for forty-seven and a half hours, working on you guys' case,  
on maybe five hours of sleep, so you had better tell me it's solved and  
I can go home, or I will honestly jump across this table and strangle you,  
because maybe you got some sleep, but I didn't, because science never  
sleeps, and you'd just come down here looking for some answers, and I'd just  
be-"

"Abby," he interrupted her, "we got our guy. I just came down here to offer   
you a ride home." All of her anger evaporated at once, and a wave of  
exhaustion swept over her. Deciding that she was probably in no state to  
drive, she gave a yawn and tossed her now empty Caf-Pow! cup into the trash  
can.

"A ride would be good."

Tony knew where she lived, so after they climbed into his car, she gave  
in to the sleepiness she was feeling. She hadn't quite dozed off  
when she felt the car begin to slow. Still, she refused to open her eyes,  
until she heard Tony mutter something to himself.  
"Wonder what happened," he said, and this one sentence was enough to grab  
her attention.  
She tiredly opened one eye just enough to satiate her curiosity and was just  
in time to see a fire truck going the other way. She paid it no mind, but if  
she had not been so exhausted, she probably would have wondered where it was  
coming from, seeing as there were only apartment buildings on this side of  
town. The only thing was, she was exhausted, and thus didn't wonder.  
Her eyes slid shut once again, but all too soon, she could tell that they  
had pulled into the parking lot of her building.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, getting out of the car. Stumbling slightly,  
she began towards the building, and glancing behind her, she saw Tony step  
out of the car.

"I think I can get up there on my own," she said, with a half laugh, but  
something in Tony's face made her stop, the laugh still trembling silently  
on the edge of her lips.

"Something's wrong," he said, his voice grave, unlike the usual care-free  
tone she had grown accustomed to. She could see his hand, itching to grab  
his gun, but was still nonfazed.

"Just because your spidey-sense is tingling, doesn't mean that something's-"  
she began, but he had pushed past her, gun now at the ready, and silently  
warning her to stay behind him. Normally, she would have been touched by his   
overprotectiveness, but now she was just too tired for it. Still, it would  
be better just to humor him.

"Go on, then," she sighed, letting him move ahead, but still trailing close  
behind him. As they reached her floor, a door creaked open on their left and   
Tony swung around, gun raised.

"Tony!" Abby cried, stepping between him and the older lady who had  
appeared. Tony muttered a quick apology, his eyes still burning with some  
sort of suspicion, and continued down the hallway. He seemed to be rather   
distant, almost possessed, but Abby turned her attention back to the woman,  
who had frozen, hands over her heart.

"Abigail?" she asked, saying her name the same way that Ducky always did. 

"It's fine, Mrs. Landry," she explained, "Tony's just being a  
little ... cautious, he thinks something's happened. Just go back inside, it's  
late. Goodnight." She said it with such finality that anyone else would have  
done as she suggested without another word, but Mrs. Landry called her back.

"Oh, but dear, you hadn't heard? I'm so sorry, but there's been a fire, a   
small one, in one of the apartments, and-" she began, but was soon  
interrupted.

"Abby," Tony said, and she looked down the hallway to see him, gun lowered,  
and facing the open door of an apartment, her apartment. Suddenly she knew,   
from the tone of his voice, and the look in his eye, which apartment had  
caught on fire. 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony's heart was pounding and adrenaline rushed through his veins. Despite what Abby had said, he knew something was wrong; it wasn't just his "spidey-senses." He continued cautiously toward her apartment door, not knowing what to expect, but expecting something all the same. He took no notice of the neighbor, having ascertained she wasn't a threat.

He was on autodrive, reverting back to his training in homicide, probably from lack ofsleep. That was something Abby had been wrong about; he hadn't slept. Something about seeing her, being in the lab, it all kept him wide awake. He couldn't help but smile when talking to her, or even just thinking about - no. There was no time for that now; he needed to focus.

He came back to reality to find his hand on the doorknob. Turning itslowly, he pushed and stood back, gun raised. The door swung inward and the sight that met his eyes was terrible. Everything that could be seen was burnt black. Nothing had been left untouched by the ravaging fire. His arms fell limply to his sides.

"Abby," he said, and her name caught awkwardly in his throat as he lookedback down the hallway to where she stood. He opened his mouth to say something else, to warn her, because he couldn't stand to let her see what had happened, but it was as though he had lost his voice. Seemingly in slow motion, he watched as she walked towards him, turning to look into her ruined apartment.

His eyes remained firmly on her face as he watched herexpressions turn from confusion to surprise, to anger, finally coming to  
rest on grief as tears began to well in her eyes. She looked as though she was going to collapse, and to his surprise, Tony found his voice again.

"Abbs, I.." he began, but his words came too late, for at that moment sheturned, running back down the hallway, and disappearing down the stairs. He resisted the strong urge to rush after her, to comfort her in her time of need, but he also knew she would want to be alone. Abby wasn't much one to cry in front of people. Even so, it hurt him to see her in so much pain.

It was at this point that something else caught his attention. A piece ofyellow notebook paper was lying on the soot covered carpet in front of him. In one quick move, he picked it up, scanning the hastily scribbled words, his eyes finally coming to rest on the illegible signature. The note crumpled in his clenched fist before he angrily stuffed it into his pocket.

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The parking lot was beginning to fill with the soft pale lightoften associated with sunrise when he found Abby. This wasn't to say that  
he'd been looking for a long time, but only that it was finally the next morning. She was sitting on the ground, her back up against his car. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment she looked surprisingly peaceful.

"Abby?" he asked, and although she didn't open her eyes, she still replied. "I'm not going back in there," she said, and he sighed. She sounded as though she was alright, but then again, she was a master at hiding her true feelings.

"I'm not asking you to. Come on," he told her, and she finally opened hereyes. She avoided his gaze, but allowed him to pull her up into a standing position. For a moment he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly in her ear, before letting go and opening the car door for her. She said nothing, but got in all the same.

They drove in silence for a couple of minutes, Tony alternating betweenwatching the road and watching Abby. She was staring out the window, in a sort of blank trance, her face a mask. After a while, she looked over at him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as though she'd only just realized that she hadn't known.

"My apartment," Tony replied, realizing that she had never been therebefore. He suddenly lost all of the confidence he had in the matter. Up until that point he had acted matter-of-factly, in a way that was the most sensible thing, in a sort of detached kind of way. This, on the other hand, taking her home, was very attached. It was something he'd done out of emotion, and he wasn't so sure of himself anymore.

"I mean, I just figured that you'd want to ... to stay at my place for awhile.For tonight at least, or today I guess, and sleep. I mean, just as long as you need to or..." he began, but obviously sensing his goodintentions, Abby interrupted him before he got any further."Thanks, Tony. That's really sweet," she said, with just a touch of her old self back for a moment. Tony smiled, feeling as though he must be glowing They lapsed into silence again. Tony's mind was now racing; he had to ask he just had to, because something there wasn't right.

"Abby," he said seriously, his mind finally made up, "do you cook?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! Just like to say thank you to all of you who are still with me on this one, and apologize for the terrible formatting of the last chapter! I had no idea until someone pointed it out, so thanks! And I LOVE reviews!!!**

"That's random," Abby said, but Tony was giving her a pointed look.   
"Only if using the microwave counts. Why?" Tony hastily turned his attention  
back to the road. 

"No reason," he lied, avoiding her gaze. He felt bad about lying, but there  
was no reason to worry her right now. He'd talk to Gibbs first. 

"This is it," he said, breaking what had quickly become an awkward silence.  
They got out of the car, and Tony led the way up to his apartment. When they  
reached it, he quickly jammed his key into the lock, not paying much  
attention to what he was doing, and spoke to Abby. 

"It's a bit of a mess, but you take the bed and I'll..." He stopped   
midsentence after glancing up. 

"I'm guessing that wasn't there when you left," Abby said cheekily, peering  
over his shoulder. Strewn across his couch was the corpse of a middle aged  
man. His eyes were wide open and staring, and his heart had been slashed  
through, with a big x. 

"What the... Holy... How in the... Crap," he finally managed to splutter. He sank  
back against the doorframe for support, and Abby grabbed his hand, giving it  
a gentle squeeze. He put a hand to his temple. He was beginning to get a  
headache, and he could just tell it was going to be one of those days.  
He pulled out his cell and pressed a speed dial key. It rang for a moment,  
before being answered. 

"Boss?" Tony said, still staring at the body. "We've got a problem." 

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It took only a short while for Tony to explain what had happened to them,  
and an even shorter while for Gibbs to arrive. Tony and Abby were both  
sitting in the parking lot waiting for him when the black sedan pulled up.  
He got out of the car and Abby rushed over to hug him. Tony couldn't  
suppress the twinge of guilt that this gave him, but he pushed it to the  
back of his mind all the same. Gibbs let go of Abby and turned to him. 

"Thanks for coming, Boss," Tony said. "Look, can you take Abbs home with you?  
I've gotta stay and work this whole dead guy thing out with the cops, so..."  
Abby interrupted him, obviously not wanting to be a burden. 

"I can take care of myself," she said. "I'll just check into a hotel and..."  
But it was Gibbs' turn to interrupt. He cut Tony off before he had even  
started to argue with Abby. 

"DiNozzo, you look like hell. When was the last time you caught some  
sleep?" he asked, in usual Gibbs fashion. 

"We were talking about Abby," Tony argued, and Gibbs gave him a look. 

"Abby is staying with me. When did you last sleep?" he asked again. Tony  
glared at him, wondering why it mattered so much. Although now that he thought about it... 

"I don't know, three days ago, four max. Why does it matter?" Gibbs walked  
around his car and opened the passenger door. 

"Get in," he said, but Tony just stood there. 

"Gibbs, there's a dead guy in my living room, I can't just..." 

"Get. In. DiNozzo," Gibbs repeated, fixing him with an unrelenting stare.  
Tony suddenly found that he had no will left to argue. He got in, Gibbs and  
Abby also following suit. 

"Keys," Gibbs said, holding out his hand, and Tony stared at him, confused. 

"Give me your keys, so I can get into your apartment," Gibbs explained. Tony  
gave a small "oh" of realization and handed them over. He clearly hadn't  
realized just how tired he had been. 

After a couple of minutes, they pulled into the driveway of Gibbs' big white  
house. As they all got out, Tony grabbed Gibbs' arm. 

"I need to talk to you," he said, glancing over at Abby, "alone." 

"We'll be a minute, Abbs, go on in," Gibbs said, gesturing for her to continue  
inside. "You know where the guest bedroom is. Help yourself." Tony did not  
want to know how she knew where it was. Once she was gone, he pulled the  
note he had found out of his pocket and handed it to Gibbs. 

"I found this at Abby's apartment," he said. "It says that the fire  
department ruled the fire accidental, because her oven was left on. But I  
asked her, and she said that she never uses her oven. The damage looked  
too thorough to be accidental, anyway. The signature there, it's not really a  
name either. It says "She won't be the last," just written like a signature.  
And then with the dead guy in my living room, there's just no way it was all   
a coincidence..." He trailed off. 

"Did you show this to Abby?" Gibbs asked him, staring at the note. 

"No, I didn't want to worry..." Tony began. 

"Good work, DiNozzo," Gibbs interrupted him. "Go on in and check on her, then  
get some sleep yourself. I've got this." 

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said, honestly thankful that Gibbs cared. 

"I've got your six, DiNozzo, always," he reminded the younger agent, before  
climbing into his car and driving off


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! Sorry about the wait for this chapter, but the next one should be out _way_ sooner, so no worries. A lot more action is coming up!**

Abby was waiting for Tony just inside the front door, and when he came in, she threw her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Is someone after us?" she asked, and he patted her back gently, vaguely aware that the last time she had cried on him like this was after Kate had died.  
"You were listening?" he asked, and took the barely perceptible move of her head against his shoulder as a yes. "Come on," he told her.

"You need to sleep." He led her gently down the hallway that he assumed led to the bedrooms. One hand still around her shoulder, he pushed the first door open. A glance told him instantly that this was Gibbs' room. It felt like a rather odd invasion of the other man's privacy to be in his bedroom, so he quickly pulled the door closed and moved on, half pulling, half carrying Abby with him.

The second door he opened revealed a neat, though sparse, guest bedroom. There was a bed, and a table, and a lamp, but other than that it was empty. Abby apparently wasn't too picky though, and leaving him, she kicked off her boots, and fell onto the bed on top of the sheets. Tony flicked off the light, and turned to leave.

"G'night Abby," he whispered into the darkness, and to his surprise, she replied.

"Don't leave. There's enough room for the both of us. Come lay down."

For a moment he didn't know what to say. He finally settled on, "Ok," and kicked off his shoes, re-entering the dark room. He sensed Abby scooting over on the bed, making room for him. Realizing how potentially awkward this could be, he lay down very cautiously, his arms by his sides, careful not to touch her.

"God, Tony, I thought you were better in bed than this," she joked, grabbing one of his hands and moving closer to him. It was then that a little voice in his head pointed out how odd it was that he was in bed with Abby, who was making sex jokes, while they were in Gibbs' house. Sighing, he told the voice to shut up, and put his arm around her. It was only minutes before Abby's breathing slowed and it was obvious that she was fast asleep. Once he was sure of this, Tony began to relax, too, welcoming the gentle reprieve of peaceful unconsciousness.

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Ziva awoke to the familiar sounds of her alarm clock beeping wildly at herto get up. She did so, slightly grudgingly, glancing at the clock, which flashed 5:30 in bright red numbers at her. She pulled on her runningclothes, not allowing the other day's case and the resulting lack of sleep sway her from routine. Throwing her hair into a ponytail, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door, before remembering her windbreaker, and doubling back.

As she donned the yellow windbreaker, she glanced out her window, which revealed a soft light beginning to fill the parking lot. A very familiar car caught her eye. It was McGee's. She frowned slightly; Tim was never on this side of town unless he was, well, unless he was with her. Right now, he obviously wasn't, and she couldn't think why he would be waiting for her in the car. Shrugging to herself, she started downstairs.

The moment she stepped into the parking lot, she could tell something was wrong. Her senses were on high alert as she scanned the area, taking McGee's now clearly empty car. Cursing herself mentally for not carrying her gun, she knelt quickly, pulling a concealed knife from around her ankle in one swift move.

She stood there for a moment, listening. She could tell there was someone else there, someone who didn't belong. Without warning, she was struck from behind by something hard and cold. She sank to the ground, fighting to remain conscious, but she was struck for a second time, and everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: TOLD YOU ALL I'D UPDATE SOON! Okay, sorry, had to ha there. Enjoy! Oh, and to avoid confusion, when I mention "rule number three" I am referring to "Never be unreachable", not "Don't believe what you're told, double check." They're both #3.  
**

"Where is my team, Jenny?!" Gibbs exploded as he burst into the Director's  
office, unannounced, as usual.

"Well, I'm sure that..." she began, but he cut her off.

"You gave them time off, didn't you?" he yelled. "Dammit, Jenny, they're my  
team! I know their limits a helluva lot better than you do. They already had  
one day off. I care about these people, and they'll get time off when they  
really need it, but right now, I need..."

"Special Agent Gibbs," the Director said loudly, standing up, her voice   
ringing with each word, "it's true that I attempted to give your team today  
off," she continued in a slightly calmer voice, "but they all refused,  
knowing what your reaction would be, no doubt. So as to their whereabouts, I  
haven't a clue, but I suggest you find them and get to work." She gave him a   
pointed look, which he returned with a scowl, and stormed out of the office.

On the way downstairs, he pulled out his phone, pressing his senior field  
agent's speed dial. It went straight to Tony's voicemail.

"Dammit, Tony, rule number three," he muttered angrily to himself, trying   
Ziva next. Hers too went automatically to voicemail. By then he had reached  
the bullpen, and he looked up to see McGee hurrying out of the elevator.

"Somebody stole my car," he said apologetically. "Where is every..."

"Try Ziva's home phone, her cell's off. I'm going to see Abby," Gibbs   
grunted, already heading for the elevator. Once he was alone inside, he  
knocked his head backwards against the metal wall angrily. Tony should've  
known better than to turn his phone off. He was still locked out of his  
apartment, thanks to the idiots at the police station, and it was Gibbs'  
only means of contacting him. The elevator doors dinged, and he headed for  
the lab.

Abby looked a lot better than she had the morning before, when he had   
picked her and Tony up. She looked almost back to normal, definitely less  
tired and freaked out, but the effects of the fire were still evident when  
he looked for them. Even so, it was clear that she was doing her very best  
to appear her old self. Smiling, she turned down her music when he entered.

"Hiya Gibbs," she said, and he couldn't help but feel his temper ebb a bit.

"Hey Abbs," he replied. "Do you know where... What are you working on?" The  
last question had come out a little more harshly than he had really meant  
it, but he had caught sight of that yellow notebook paper. He didn't want her  
worrying about that now, or really ever. She hastily turned off her computer   
monitor.

"Nothing," she lied feebly, but Gibbs didn't buy it.

"Abby," he said in a reprimanding tone, and she sighed, turning the  
monitor back on, revealing a scan of the note.

"I'm checking for prints and analyzing the ink," she said. "This is just  
something I have to do, Gibbs, okay?" She looked up imploringly.

"I understand," he said, pulling her into a quick hug. "Now do you know why  
Tony has his phone off?" Abby jumped with realization.

"Crap, Gibbs! I forgot to tell you!" she exclaimed. "Tony got called in to  
the police station, they wanna ask him some stuff about the dead guy."

"They think he did it?" Gibbs asked, trying to remain calm.

"I dunno," Abby replied, shrugging.

"Thanks, Abbs," he said, pecking her on the cheek and heading out of the lab, "and you call me if you find something on that note, alright?" She nodded, and he sped back upstairs. 

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McGee started talking almost the second Gibbs entered the bullpen.

"No word from Ziva. I've tried everything short of checking her apartment,  
and Ducky called. He wanted me to tell you he won't be in today. His mother  
came down with food poisoning." Gibbs cursed under his breath.

"Good work, McGee," he said. "Go to her apartment, then. I've gotta go get  
Tony." He grabbed his coat, and the both of them headed for the elevator.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, I am SO SORRY. I am. Really. I wrote this chapter, and an author's note explaining about how I would take forever to update because my inspiration had left, and then for some reason or another, I didn't post it. But here it is now. Good news is, my inspiration is back, so new chapters should be up quicker than ever! There is also the before mentioned McGiva (the underappreciated pairing) in the chapter. Enjoy!**

It took Gibbs a record five minutes to drive to the police station, three minutes to intimidate the information he needed out of the secretary (mostly by staring at her) and one minute to find this so-called Detective Robertson.

Being unusually polite, instead of bursting in on him in interrogation Gibbs instead burst in on the man in the observation room, demanding to see the Detective after a very brief explanation of who he was. The man, presumably a techie, got on the comms system.

"Erm, Detective Robertson, we have a, um, Special Agent Gibbs here to see you," he said. In the interrogation room, Tony looked up at the window, grinning, and the other man, presumably the detective, got up coolly and walked out. Gibbs continued watching Tony, who had become the picture of nonchalance, looking in the mirror cheekily and smoothing his hair back.

The door into the observation room opened, and in stepped a young man, with black hair and an expression of annoyance.

"Special Agent Gibbs," the detective said, offering a hand, which Gibb ignored.

"Is my agent a suspect, Robertson?" he asked instead, and the other man fidgeted.

"He's our only lead, his DNA was found at the crime scene . . . " he explained and Gibbs exploded.

"It was his apartment, of course his DNA would be there!" he yelled.

"It's still highly suspicious . . ."

"You must be new at this. I need my agent, so if you're done asking stupid questions, we'll both be leaving," Gibbs said, heading for the door. Halfway there, he turned. "NCIS will be taking over this investigation. Send all of the evidence over to our headquarters." With that, he stormed out into the hallway, opening the interrogation room door a crack.

"DiNozzo," he said, "you coming?" Tony jumped up and grabbed his coat.

"Sure thing, Boss!" he said, grinning.

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McGee was not having a good time. He had gotten to Ziva's apartment with no trouble at all, only to find upon arriving that she wasn't answering her door, either. With a slight feeling of unease settling in his stomach (for he had seen her car in the lot), he opened the door with the key she'd given him.

_"Now I'm trusting you, McGee," she'd said with a slight smile, pressing the key gently into his open palm. She tucked a stray piece of frizzy hair back behind her ear and spoke again. _

_"If anything happens, I know . . . "_

He shook his head violently, trying once more to bury the memory that was distracting him so.

"Ziva?" he called uncertainly, stepping inside. He knew that she wasn't there - well, that she had better not be there - because if she was and she hadn't answered her phone or the door, then that meant she was . . . and he more than hoped not. A quick scan of the apartment proved, to his relief, that she was, in fact, not there. He combed the apartment, going over everything with a trained eye even Tony would've been proud of.

He stopped in front of a bookcase, more specifically a group of picture frames on a shelf at eye level. He studied the pictures inside the frames carefully.

One was of the team, from what must've been the holiday party at the office. Everyone was smiling but Gibbs, naturally. There were a few others from that night, most noticeably the one in the very center of the group. It was of the two of them. She was wearing a dark green sweater, a Santa hat perched lopsidedly on her head. Her arms were around his neck, and his expression was one of surprise, for he hadn't been expecting it, and she'd come from behind. He, too, had been wearing a Santa hat, and they both had slightly tipsy smiles.  
He smiled at the memory, wondering who the photographer could've been.

_He stood back and surveyed the party. Admittedly it was sort of lame, but everyone appeared to be having a good time. Even Gibbs was . . . He jumped with surprise as long and distinctly feminine arms descended over his head, coming to rest on his shoulders, crossing around his neck. A soft voice floated into his ear. _

_"Having fun?" Ziva asked and . . . _

He decided it was better not to dwell. He skimmed over the rest of the pictures - Tony, Abby, the Director, even one she had managed to sneak of Gibbs. Finally, he moved away from the bookcase, and finished going over the rest of the apartment.

There wasn't a single thing out of place. Everything in the apartment was normal, except for the obvious absence of its owner. There wasn't anything to help him find her, nothing at all. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever see her again, when the ringing of his phone interrupted his thoughts.

"McGee," he answered, suddenly becoming aware of how Gibbs-like he'd become in that sense.

"What'd you find?" Gibbs asked, and he heard a horn sound and tires skid. Gibbs was driving, and had obviously just gone round a turn.

"There's nothing here, Boss," McGee said, mindlessly twirling between his fingers a ring he'd found.

"I'm gonna start asking the neighbors if . . . "

There was a bang. The bang was enough to make him stop speaking. It was a gunshot. Then there was a violent skidding of tires, cursing and a loud crash. The cursing stopped, and there was an eerie silence.

"Boss?!"

The line went dead.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here ya go. You knew I wouldn't leave you long for with a cliffhanger like that one, right!? Enjoy, and I love it when I hear from you!**

Abby's hair was down, because she just hadn't had the will to put it up again. It hung limply down around her shoulders, knotty and straggled, but she just didn't care. She sat slumped in front of her computer, in one of her tall rolling chairs, surrounded by empty Caff-Pow cups. Her head rested dejectedly in her arms, which in turn rested on her knees, and there was near complete silence in the lab, save for a small sniffling.

Open in a window on the computer screen was the note, that terrible, awful note- and there wasn't a thing on it that she could find, just words. She had run every single test she could think of, and still come up empty. There was nothing, nada, zip, zero. Whoever wrote it was just too good. She had failed. The phone rang, and her head jerked up as she answered it.

"Yeah?" she asked, with little conviction. It was Tony.

"Abbs, don't freak out," he began, which of course made her instantly aware that something was wrong. "Gibbs was in a car crash, he broke his arm . . . "

"What? Oh my God! When . . . Is he . . . " Abby exploded with a barrage of questions, but Tony stopped her.

"He's fine, Abby, just at the hospital getting a cast on it now. Look, we need to regroup. Meet me in the bullpen in five," he told her, his voice serious.

"Are you sure he's . . . " she began worriedly, and Tony sighed.

"He's fine," he repeated. "Gotta go." Abby dropped the phone back into its cradle, putting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands.

"Gibbs," she murmured softly, before hastily wiping her eyes and standing up. Feeling almost numb with disbelief, she headed for the elevator.

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Tony was already waiting in the bullpen when she arrived. He came over and put an arm around her to comfort her, and she leaned into him, welcoming the support. McGee arrived a moment later, and soon after, the Director and Ducky both appeared.

Tony walked Abby over to his desk and sat her down, before looking over the group. McGee was at his own desk, looking worried as hell, but trying not to show it by busying himself with his computer. Ducky was staring distractedly into space, and Jenny was leaning against Gibbs' desk, also looking worried, and scared. No one was smiling, and no one was meeting each other's eyes.

"Okay," Tony began. "We've had a fire, and a murder, Ziva is missing, and now Gibbs' car was shot at. We know it can't be a coincidence. So what do we know?" The room had gone very silent when he spoke, and everyone had turned to look at him, apparently surprised at how well he sank into the role of team leader.

"We need more information," he continued. "We need to figure this out. The police will have sent over the information on the murder by now, so Ducky, I need you to go over the autopsy report, anything you can find that would be of help. McGee, I want to know everything about the man who was killed, and anyone he's ever met in his life. Abby, we're going back over to your apartment. Whoever this is can't be perfect; we'll find them. So, Director, if you'll excuse us then?"

Everyone remained frozen in place, staring not at Tony, but over his shoulder at Gibbs, who had come in, looking battered and beaten, and a tad bit surprised that Tony was giving orders. For a moment, his face was unreadable, and Tony was worried that he would be furious. He was wrong, though.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" he asked suddenly, and everyone jumped to work, including the Director. He gave Tony a small smile, and stomped over to his desk.

"Good work, DiNozzo."

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Not twenty minutes later, Abby was back in her lab with Tony. They were going over the remains of her apartment after the fire, as Tony had suggested, but with no luck.

"There's. Nothing. Here. Tony," Abby said, eyes closed, thudding her head down on the computer desk with every word. Suddenly, she felt an odd sensation, and realized that Tony had pulled her chair away from the desk. She leaned back, eyes still closed firmly.

"Maybe," he said, beginning to massage her shoulders gently, "you just need to relax." Abby could already feel the tension drifting away, and she could help but let out a small, "Mmm" of pleasure. It just felt so good.

"Hey," she said, as Tony's hands suddenly left her shoulders, "don't stop!" He laughed lightly, and she felt a faint tugging of her hair.

"What are you . . . " she began, but realized the answer midway through the question. He was brushing her hair, putting it up into pigtails; after all, she had just left the hair-bands and brush out on the desk. In minutes he was done, and she finally opened her eyes, only to find his face mere inches from her own.

"Better now?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah." He was so close, and she could feel his breath on her face, but she must've been imagining him leaning in, because a moment later, he moved away, back to the computer. Slightly disappointed, Abby followed him.

"Then let's take another look at this," he said. She nodded.

"We'll find something this time," she announced, injecting her voice with whatever confidence she could, while adding silently, "I hope."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry, really. Summer has been heck. But here's a chapter to tide you over (assuming you're all still reading). I love comments. And you all! 3**

McGee was typing quickly and angrily, his fingertips pounding down on each key as he went. Ziva was out there. Somewhere out there and in trouble and hurt, and all he was doing was a background check on one Douglas Irby. While she was out there.

"McGee," Gibbs called his name sharply and he looked up at the only other man in the bullpen.

"Yeah, Boss?" he asked. Gibbs was staring at him thoughtfully.

"What are you doing?" McGee was slightly thrown off by this question, and looked around almost guiltily just to make sure he hadn't done anything wrong. There was a pause.

"Um, a background check on the dead guy from Tony's apartment," he finally answered. Gibbs nodded.

"Where's Ziva?" he asked, and at the mention of her name, McGee's previous frustration returned.

"We don't know." He returned to his work.

"Hey," Gibbs said, and McGee looked up once more to see him standing right in front of his desk, "I want you to go out there and find her, McGee. I'll finish this; I'm not much use in the field with my arm, anyway. But you find her, and bring her back, McGee." Gibbs' hard blue eyes met McGee's, and he nodded, grabbing his gun. Gibbs understood.

"On it, Boss," he said, and practically ran for the elevator. He'd find her. He just had to. 

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Tony's cell rang, and suddenly all of the silence in the lab was broken. He reached for it, and checked the caller id. Abby noticed the look of confusion spread across his fine features. 

"What?" she asked. Tony shook his head.

"It's one of my old college buddies," he said slowly. "Hasn't called me in years. I didn't even know he had this . . ." He was interrupted by one of Abby's many machines, which began to beep wildly. Tony put the phone down immediately, and went over to it, glancing at Abby, who was grinning.

"What's it mean?" he asked, gesturing to the still beeping machine.

"It means," Abby began, "that we've got something." With that, she ran over to her phone, and just as her hand was extended over it, it began to ring.

"Creepy," she muttered to no one in particular, and answered.

"Abby," came McGee's voice, breathless with what sounded like a mixture of excitement and worry, "I've got something."

"Cool," she replied, bouncing up and down on her toes and looking at Tony, who was shooting her a questioning look. "So did I, but I was gonna call Gibbs . . ."

"I already called him."

"What? How did you know I had something?" 

"No, I found Ziva." 

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"Hello?" McGee looked at his cell in confusion. There had been an odd clatter on the other side of the line.

"What? Hello?" Abby's voice came back on. "Sorry, I dropped the phone. Hold on, I'll put ya on speaker; Tony's here." McGee gave a slight smile. He was still shaky from the adrenaline from finding Ziva.

"'Kay, McGee, say again?"

"I found Ziva. I was on my way back to her apartment - to see if I'd missed anything - and I passed this little juice bar, and my car was right there in the parking lot. I-I popped the trunk, and she was in there, unconscious,"he said in a rush. "I'm at the hospital now."

"Nice going, McGee. She alright?" Tony asked. McGee shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the waiting room. 

"They think she's gonna be fine, but she got cracked on the head pretty hard. She's strong though; they think she'll recover. It was weird, though, Tony, the way she was dressed up. A mini-skirt and heels - it wasn't something she would wear."

A/N: BUM BUM BUUUUMMM...cliffhanger!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Another exciting chapter! Yet again, I'd like to say thanks to Smackalicious, my darling beta, and give an extra thank you to all of you who have stuck with me on this one! It's been rough, but you've all made it worthwhile. Enjoy!**

The gears turned in Tony's mind as he and Abby sped to Bethesda. He knew the juice bar, Tangerine, McGee had found his car at. He used to . . . his thoughts were once again interrupted by the ringing of his cell.

"Damnit, Bobby, I don't have time for this," he muttered, and ignored the phone, along with Abby's raised eyebrow, speeding nearly the rest of the way to the hospital.

When they arrived, McGee was in the waiting room. Abby immediately rushed over and engulfed him in a hug. Tony quelled the bit of jealousy that rose up in him by distracting McGee.

"She awake yet?" he asked, and McGee pulled away from Abby's hug, shaking his head.

"But here are the clothes she was wearing," he said, handing the evidence bags over to Abby, who looked at him honestly.

"I will run every possible test on these, McGee, and then some," she announced, and he gave her a small smile.

"Thanks, Abbs," he said, and Tony clapped him on the shoulder.

"We're going to find the son of a bitch who did this, I swear it, McGee," he said confidently, and took Abby's hand, heading back to the lab.

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Over the next hour, everyone gathered in Abby's lab to report, everyone except for McGee, who was still at the hospital. He was on speaker phone, listening in. Tony tried to fit together the information they had ascertained as it was announced, but it was like a puzzle without all the pieces.

The man who had been murdered, Harry Jones, had not in fact been murdered, Ducky told them. He had died of a heart attack; the cut that had been across his chest had been done post-mortem. Gibbs' background check on him had come up clean, showing that his body had been stolen from a morgue in Boston about a week ago.

Abby had frantically been doing all of the tests she'd promised McGee, but they all came up empty. The black leather mini-skirt, red heels, and low cut top were clean, unless shown to a dirty mind. The only fibers on them had come from McGee's car, but she had managed to track down where they'd come from. It was a small shop in DC, but they were turning up no leads there, either.

She had, however, found something else out about her apartment. Further tests on the remnants of the fire had shown them that contrary to what they had been told, the fire hadn't been started by her oven. Far from it: Her entire apartment had been doused in gasoline, and set aflame in the kitchen. Unfortunately it didn't tell them anything about who started it.

Tony took it all in as he looked around Abby's lab. He was determined, downright determined, to figure it out. For Abby. For McGee. For Ziva, Gibbs, hell, for all of them. He began to think out loud.

"Okay. First off, who would steal a body from Boston just to plant it in my apartment? Two, why didn't the fire department tell us what started Abby's fire? Three, why would you dress someone like _that_ just to stuff them in a trunk? And how'd they get Ziva in the first place? And what's this got to do with everyone else?" He fired off, following his train of thought.

"We need answers, not questions, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled from his desk. Tony didn't seem to hear him.

"Something here seems familiar . . ." he murmured.

"How do you mean?" Ducky asked, intrigued. Before Tony could reply, his cell began to ring, the caller id flashing Bobby's number.

"You gonna answer that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs barked, and Tony flipped open the phone.

"Hello?"

"Tony, it's Bobby, I . . ."

"Look, I'm kind of busy. In the middle of a case, I can't really . . ."

"Oh. Right. Well, I'm in town. Got a job as a firefighter, actually. We should talk some time . . ."

"I'll call you." Tony snapped his phone shut with a sigh of frustration, and didn't say another word.

"Good friend?" Abby asked sarcastically. Even as he rolled his eyes, the pieces snapped into place.

"The date . . . what's the date?" he asked suddenly, and was met by a stunned silence. "What day is it, anybody?"

"The twelfth, Tony," the Director said after a moment, just as startled by his behavior as everyone else. "Why?"

"I thought I recognized the outfit," Tony said distractedly, running his hands through his hair, "and the juice bar. I knew it!"

"Tony, what is it?" Abby asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Everyone was watching him. He looked up at her.

"Gwen."

"No . . . Abby. And you're scaring me," she replied, more worried still.

"No, I knew that . . . Gwen Evans," Tony repeated. "She was killed ten years ago today in a car crash. She was hit by a pick-up pulling out of a parking space, outside of Tangerine - the place McGee found Ziva . . ."

"How do you know this?" the Director asked.

"We met there. It was a date but . . . she left early," Tony stuttered.

"Oh, Tony." Abby wrapped her arms around him.

"Bobby, her ex, blamed me. He said it was my fault she died . . ." Abby straightened up.

"But . . . Who were you just on the phone with?" she squeaked, and Tony's eyes widened.

"He was her ex. He's in DC now as a . . . firefighter."

"Tony," the Director began, "is he capable of this? He blamed you, but . . ." Tony's phone rang again. With a nod from Gibbs, he answered, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"I think we really should talk . . ."

"I've got a case to solve, Bob. We don't have any leads." The tone in the other man's voice changed in an instant, and Tony's blood ran cold.

"You always were a bad liar. But I expected you to figure it out. We have something to discuss."


End file.
